Tip-toeing on colorful petals,
Butterflies listen to flower’s prayers
And then share nature’s secrets
With a divine kiss to the heart.
Forever traveling,
spreading the Word of Spring
they wish they are not forgotten
when seasons change
and eternal rest is near.
Hope is never lost,
In time, younger preachers
will arrive.
True believers will be again awaken,
With a long waited kiss,
And their heart will blossom under the sun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I esp like the first and second stanzas. It's a nice metaphor, and 'Word of Spring' is wonderful! Gee, I don't think I've read your name in a year, Ivy! Hope you're well.